Sick Cycle Carousel~Remus Lupin's story
by EvilGrammarQueen
Summary: What if the other three marauders found out about Remus? What if they didn't accept it? Strange story, I realize and accept this...Remus' POV, sort of.


A/N: Written in about half an hour. Really strange. R+R, please.  
  
Disclaimer: Remus, Sirius, James, Peter, and the song are not mine. The song is Sick Cycle Carousel by LifeHouse. (I love my new CD!)  
  
"You're a werewolf, aren't you?" That's how it had all started. One question and he thought his life was over for good. The best friends he'd ever had had just figured out exactly why it was that he went away once a month.  
  
If shame had a face I think it  
  
Would look kind of like mine  
  
If it had a home would it be my eyes  
  
Would you believe me if I said I am  
  
Tired of this  
  
After he'd confirmed their suspicions, James and Sirius avoided him at all costs. That was why telling them had been out of the question. Soon they'd tell everyone. Everyone would know what a beast he was. He'd be exiled from society, if not killed. After they told people, there'd be no more jokes to play, no more teasing James about his obsession with Lily Evans. Somehow, that was the part he most dreaded. Not the whispers and stares from passersby, but his friends hating him. Remus could deal with being shunned, as long as his friends would stick by him.  
  
Here we go now one more time  
  
I tried to climb your stairs  
  
I tried to chase you down  
  
I tried to see how low  
  
I could get down to the ground  
  
I tried to earn my way  
  
I tried to change this mind  
  
You better believe that I tried to beat this  
  
He'd tried to explain to them how it wasn't his fault; how this wasn't him, but they just wouldn't listen. It really didn't shock him that much. After all, he was a werewolf; a monster. There was no way anyone could be friends with a monster. To even hope would be ridiculous. He supposed it would be better for them. Ten years from now, they'd look back on this and truly hate him. Peter had been the only one that understood. He kept trying to talk to Remus, to explain that it didn't matter to him. But it should, Remus had countered, it should matter. It was strange, really. Peter had always been the one afraid of his own shadow—yet when it turned out that one of his best friends was a werewolf, he could care less.  
  
When will this end it goes on and on  
  
Over and over and over again  
  
Keep spinning around I know it won't  
  
Stop till I step down from this for good  
  
A week had passed, then a month. James and Sirius still weren't talking to him, but no one else was acting out of the ordinary. Maybe they hadn't told anyone, an irrational part of his brain kept saying, hoping against hope.  
  
The silence was excruciating. Never had he experienced something so painful. But it wouldn't stop. Nothing would ever change, he knew that. He had briefly considered death as a possibility, but realized that it was unthinkable. No, he'd finish school alone and friendless, then go somewhere quiet and deserted to live out the rest of his days. The mountains would do; he'd always loved the mountains.  
  
I never thought I'd end up here  
  
Never thought I'd be standing where I am  
  
I guess I kind of thought it would be easier  
  
Than this I guess I was wrong  
  
Two months later and the only one to try to talk to him was Peter. Foolish little Peter, how could he ever understand? Each time he came back from the Whomping Willow, Sirius and James would look disdainfully at him. Peter could only smile sympathetically. Peter couldn't seem to grasp the concept that quiet, timid Remus would turn into a slobbering, bloodthirsty fiend when the moon was full. It didn't matter, none of them mattered anymore. He was the lone wolf.  
  
Now one more time  
  
I tried to climb your stairs  
  
I tried to chase you down  
  
I tried to see how low  
  
I could get down to the ground  
  
At night, he'd curl up into a little ball and cry himself to sleep. Lone wolf indeed, he was a pack animal! But it still didn't matter. They wouldn't talk to him. And why should they? They weren't his friends. He didn't have friends. Werewolves should keep to themselves, removing themselves from any situation that might put any other creature in danger.  
  
I tried to earn my way  
  
I tried to change this mind  
  
You better believe that I tried to beat this  
  
He'd had enough. He had to at least know if they'd told anyone or not; know whether or not he was going to be killed soon. No, they answered, they hadn't told anyone. And they wouldn't, just as long as he kept to himself and didn't try to talk to them anymore. He agreed. What else could he do? If he persisted, they'd surely have him killed. And then what would happen to that little house in the mountains?  
  
When will this end it goes on and on  
  
Over and over and over again  
  
Keep spinning around I know it won't  
  
Stop till I step down from this  
  
Sick cycle carousel this is a sick  
  
Cycle yeah, sick cycle carousel  
  
Once a month. Agonizing pain once a month. But at least it took his mind off of them. The wolf inside was becoming more and more restless with each change. It wanted a pack, family. The only family it had ever known besides James, Sirius, and Peter was Remus' twin brother, Romulus. His parents couldn't count as family; they didn't care about his transformations, they were too busy going out to parties and getting drunk. Trying to forget the failure of their children, he supposed. One was a werewolf, the other a squib with a brain tumor. It was sad, really. Romulus had been diagnosed with the brain tumor when he and Remus were six. There was nothing the doctors could do, their parents said, it was fatal.  
  
Expecting a six-year-old child to understand what "fatal" means is very difficult. Getting them to accept it is impossible. Remus had bolted out the door as fast as he could. He found the tree that he and Romulus used to play in, and stayed there until dusk. A man in obvious pain stumbled into view. Remus didn't remember the actual bite. All he could remember was afterwards, his mother finding him and screaming her head off.  
  
After that, his parents pretty much ignored both Remus and Romulus—who hadn't shown any signs of magic—they instead went out every night to forget their troubles. Romulus had died when he was nine, the night before the full moon. Mother and Father had blamed Remus, he could remember heavy things being hurled at him. Remus became listless and withdrawn after his brother's death; until he met his friends on the Hogwarts Express. But even that had come to an end.  
  
This is a sick cycle yeah  
  
When will this end it goes on and on  
  
Over and over and over again  
  
Keep spinning around I know it won't  
  
Stop till I step down from this for good  
  
He staggered into the dorm one morning, the newly healed skin shining pink in the dimly lit room. He laid down on his bed and began to sob uncontrollably. It had been a particularly bad night in the Shrieking Shack. James pulled back the curtains on Remus' bed and looked down at him, eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry," James whispered, "Remus, forgive me."  
  
Remus lifted his head from the tear soaked pillow, "I don't want to be alone."  
  
Keep spinning around I know it won't  
  
Stop till I step down from this for good  
  
Sick cycle carousel  
  
sick cycle carousel  
  
"You'll never be alone again." 


End file.
